


come back to what you need

by dreamtheft



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamtheft/pseuds/dreamtheft
Summary: Seeing her now, Steve wishes he would’ve stopped her, kissed her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the plane. Catherine never really needed saving, but he wishes he would’ve tried.





	come back to what you need

_"you did not look back_  
_you walked away_  
_to be alone with your demons_  
_i try to hate you, but don’t you know?_  
_darling -_  
_my demons are in love with[yours](http://nadiahilker.tumblr.com/post/127743878410/you-did-not-look-back-you-walked-away-to-be)"_

__  
__  


\---

He has never seen her look so fragile, like if he touches her she’ll shatter beneath his fingertips. Even when she was in the hospital after she was shot, she didn’t look like this. She was on her feet as soon as her legs would hold her, ready for a fight. That’s how Steve McGarrett knows Catherine Rollins: Defiant and sturdy and brave. Not like this. Not this pale. Not this quiet. Steve leans forward, drawing a hand across his mouth. The room is silent except for the steady beeping of the machines. His eyes trace the bruises on her face: The one blossoming around the cut underneath her eye, the deep red one that starts on her cheekbone and disappears underneath the neck of her hospital gown. He’s stopped trying to figure out how she got them. Every time he imagines a different scenario, he feels sick.

Catherine’s been unconscious for almost two days. The doctors explained several times that was to be expected. Exhaustion. Shock. Blood loss. Concussion. Infection. Dehydration. All of the ailments run a constant loop in Steve’s head. Then there’s the dislocated shoulder and the broken ribs. The whip marks on her back. Steve swallows hard, rubbing his eyes to force himself awake. He’s managed to get a few hours of sleep, mostly tangled in the hospital chair, since they found her. Steve feels like he is going to crawl out of his skin. Even with everything that happened between them, he still can’t stand to see her hurt.

It’s been two years since they last met, since she closed the door to that plane and told him she wanted him to be happy. Steve didn’t tell her that what he needed to be happy was her. That wouldn’t have been fair, and he knew it. Catherine had to find her own path. He wasn’t going to be the person to stand in the way of that. But seeing her now, he wishes he would’ve stopped her, kissed her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the plane. Catherine never really needed saving, but he wishes he would’ve tried.

Steve glances up at the sound of footsteps. Danny stands in the doorframe, looking as disheveled as Steve feels, with a cup of coffee in each hand. He studies Steve for a minute, and Steve can see the lecture forming on his partner’s lips. But Danny swallows whatever he is going to say, glances at Catherine’s bed and then walks over to hand Steve the coffee.

“How is she?” Danny asks, taking a seat in the second chair by the bed.

“The same.”

Steve feels Danny’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look his way. He knows what Danny wants to say: That he should go home, shower, rest. Steve doesn’t know how to put into words just how impossible that feels. He can’t let her wake up to a room he’s not in.

“Did she manage to tell you how she ended up here?”

Steve thinks Danny means Hawaii, not this hospital room, but he’s too tired to be completely sure. He leans back, eyes drifting to the machine monitoring Catherine’s heart rate, to the bed, and back again. 

They found her by accident. If they never installed the silent alarms on their safe houses, she would’ve died there. It’s a thought that hasn’t stopped running through Steve’s mind since the moment Danny saw her crumpled on the living room floor.

Catherine didn’t say much when he reached her, responding to Danny shouting his name. Steve managed to coax her into consciousness, but she was feverish, confused. She’d asked if Steve was really there, mumbling something about him being there before, but leaving. He brought her hand to his cheek, let her feel his skin with her fingers. He vaguely heard Danny calling for an ambulance as Catherine knotted her fingers in the bottom of his shirt, whispered something about people coming back for her, about being sorry. Then, she went still. She hadn’t woken up since. 

“No,” Steve says, his voice rough. “My guess is some kind of op gone bad.”

Danny reaches out, squeezes his wrist just once, “She’s going to be okay, buddy.”

Steve sighs. The doctors told him that she’ll recover, that she needs rest but she’ll wake up soon. It’s a relief, it is. But all he can see is a future where she leaves again, goes somewhere where he can’t follow. He wonders who would call him, if she couldn’t recover next time. Who’s voice would tell him that she’s gone, this time for good? 

Steve feels panic rising, the kind only Catherine can bring out in him. He must make a sound in the back of his throat because Danny’s fingers are on his wrist again. This time, they stay.

\---

“Catherine?”

He finds her curled up on one of the chairs in his yard, knees pulled up to her chest. The sun is just beginning to set, bathing her in a pinkish light. Her skin is still pale, the bruises standing out in sharp contrast. Her arm is in a sling and he knows there are bandages on her back underneath her sweater. Catherine doesn’t acknowledge his voice, so he walks slowly to the other chair, trying not to startle her. 

He doesn’t speak, just waits. Catherine has only been out of the hospital for two hours, and she’s barely said a word since she woke up three days ago. She’s been on edge, constantly checking her phone, looking over her shoulder. She’s tried to convince Steve multiple times to leave her because she’ll just get him killed. 

He hasn’t flinched.

“I should check into a hotel,” she says, and her voice hoarse. Steve stares at the bruises on her throat.

“Cath—”

“I shouldn’t be here, Steve,” she says, tucking her knees underneath her sweater. “I’m not your responsibility.”

“Fuck that.”

“I left you,” Catherine says, still staring past him at the water. “You shouldn’t die for me.”

Steve swallows, “Nobody is dying.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me, either.”

Steve ignores her. He doesn’t say that there’s nobody else to take care of her. He’s not sure if he holds back because it’s hurtful, or because that’s not the reason he brought her here at all. What he wants to say is he won’t let anyone else near her, that he won’t — can’t —let her out of his sight.

It’s not that he’s forgiven her. He hasn’t. His anger is a constant presence, churning in his stomach. There’s a part of him, a big part, that wants to demand answers. He wants to know why this was a better option than staying with him. Why wasn’t he enough? Why wouldn’t she stay? And why did she have to lie about any of it?

But he can’t let that anger out. Not yet. Not when she’s like this. He knows her. He loves her, too. That much he can’t help. And he’s never seen her react like this. If she was pushing herself, trying to run until the hurt disappeared, he would understand how to proceed. But she’s emotionless and still, and that scares him more than anything. Catherine, much like Steve, has never been any good at staying still.

Steve stares at her profile as he considers his next move. He needs to know what happened so he knows how to protect her, protect all of them, but he doesn’t know how to ask in a way that won’t make her bolt. Catherine must notice him staring because her eyes flick to him. For a moment, he sees the spark of the woman he knows. Then it deadens, and she looks away. 

“Cath, I need you tell me what happened,” he tries, voice soft. “I need to know who might be coming after you.”

She’s silent for a long time, long enough for the sun to set and Steve to believe she isn’t going answer. Then she shifts slightly in her chair, grimacing as the movement jars her injuries. When she speaks, her voice is robotic, like she’s reporting to her commanding officer and not the man she’s loved for a decade. It brings a bitter taste to Steve’s mouth. 

Catherine tells him she doesn’t know how she got to Hawaii. She was on assignment and she felt the operation going south. The last thing she remembered was telling her handler, for the third time, that she needed pulling out. Then there were men at her door, bringing her down, knocking her out. She woke up in a windowless room.

“I was there for a week, maybe more,” she says, not looking at Steve. “They wanted information about our others operatives in the area. I wouldn’t give it up and, well...”

She gestures to her injuries. Steve’s jaw tightens. 

“Eventually, they messed up. Left only one guard on me and didn’t check my ties,” she says. “I managed to get out. Once I realized where I was, I remembered the safe house nearby.”

He hears a hitch in her voice then, the first sign of emotion. It’s everything he can do to stay in the chair.

“Steve,” she looks at him then, eyes bright. “I didn’t know about the silent alarm. I never meant to pull any of you into this. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve is out of his chair then, walking to kneel in front of her. He doesn’t touch her, just places each hand on an armrest and waits until she meets his eye. He raises a hand hesitantly and when she doesn’t pull away, places it gently against the side of her face. Steve rubs his thumb across her cheek, trying to ignore how much he missed the feel of her skin. 

“Listen to me,” he says, and he knows his voice is tight. “I haven’t stopped being thankful for that alarm since we found you. You can always call me. I’ll come.”

She stares at him for a moment and Steve remembers that look, that fondness. Then she blinks, and it’s gone. There’s a flash of guilt in her eyes. Before Steve can move, she’s on her feet, walking away from him.

\---

When Steve first wakes, he’s not sure what pulled him from sleep. He’s a light sleeper, something he learned out of necessity, so it could’ve been anything. He stays still, listening until he hears it again: A muttering and the squeak of bedsprings. His brow furrows as he throws back his covers, rubbing his hands over his face to clear his drowsiness. He pulls on a shirt as he walks out into the hallway toward the guest room. He already knows what he’ll find.

If he’s being honest, he’s surprised it took this long for the nightmares to start. He doesn’t know the details of what Catherine survived, but he saw the aftermath. Steve knows what it’s like to recover from torture, physically and psychologically. He went through most of it alone, stubbornly pushing away most of Danny’ help. It’s how he’s wired, and he knows Catherine is wired the same. 

Still, he has to try. 

He makes it to her door and pushes through, finding her twisted in the bedding. She’s murmuring something, hands clutching at the sheets. Even from here, he can see the sweat beading her forehead. Steve lets out a long breath as he considers how to proceed. But when she cries out, her voice echoing through the silent house, his body reacts before his mind can catch up. 

“Cath,” he says, hand hovering over her arm as sits on the edge of the mattress. “Catherine.”

She doesn’t wake, but turns sharply toward him, another cry escaping her lips. Steve swallows, prepares himself and then reaches out, lightly clasping her shoulders. 

“Catherine, wake up. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Steve.”

He’s prepared for her reaction. She bolts awake, one hand coming up to defend herself and the other reaching toward the nightstand for a weapon that isn’t there. Steve catches her by the wrist, preventing her from making contact with his jaw, and then waits while she orients herself. 

She breathes heavily, eyes wild as they scan the room for a threat and adjust to the darkness. Steve waits patiently, fingers still wrapped around her arm, until her stare finally reaches him. He lets her go then and she pushes herself up against the headboard. When she reaches up to brush her hair away from her face, he sees her hand shaking.

“Catherine.”

“I’m fine, Steve,” she averts her eyes, picks at the edge of the sheet. “Just a dream. You can go.”

“Cath, please.”

Five-0 has done nothing but chase down leads since they found Catherine. The past few days brought revelations, which probably fueled her nightmares. The men that attacked her left the island, vanished. Yesterday, Steve confirmed what he already suspected: That Catherine’s handler had been working against her. That’s why he didn’t pull her out. When he told Catherine, she’d stared at the kitchen counter for a minute, fingers white-knuckled on the wooden edge. Then, she simply walked away, never saying a word. 

She raises her eyes to him again, and it takes everything for him not to move. There’s a sadness there he’s never seen before. She bites down on her lip, and Steve knows she’s trying to push back whatever it is she’s feeling. But being pulled abruptly from sleep weakened her defenses and he sees her losing the battle. Catherine chokes on a sob, hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to stifle it. 

Steve lowers his eyes as the tears start, and he knows the wall she put up is crumbling. He looks up again as she turns away from him, curling up in the sheets, shoulders heaving. Her desperate attempts for breath pull at his seams. Steve slowly reaches out, pressing a hand to the small of her back. She flinches at first but doesn’t pull away. 

“Steve,” Catherine says his name in a choked whisper. It sounds a little like a prayer.

Before he can second guess, he’s swinging his feet onto the bed, pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She’s still shaking and Steve tightens his grip, pressing his lips to the back of her head. Catherine turns toward him then, fingers knotting in his shirt the same way they did the night he found her. The memory makes Steve squeeze his eyes shut as he tries to erase the images of her battered form on the floor.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, barely audible. “I got you.”

He holds her as she quiets, as her breath evens out, as her fingers loosen. He holds her as she presses her forehead to his chest and takes a breath. He holds her as she offers a quiet request, “Please don’t go.”

Steve exhales. He shifts onto his back, keeping one hand on her so she stays tucked at his side. He closes his eyes, rubs a hand up and down her arm, just once. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

\---

It’s another two weeks before Catherine seeks him out to talk. He’s sitting outside in his chair, beer in hand, when he hears her coming up beside him. He’s returned to the guest rooms a few times to wake her from nightmares, but she hasn’t asked him to stay since that first night. Steve doesn’t know what to make of any of this. He wonders when she’s going to disappear again.

She sits down in the other chair, eyes on the horizon. He glances over at her, looks away, glances again. Her bruises are fading, but he can still see the evidence of the abuse. Steve doesn’t know if she’ll ever tell him the details of what happened, and he’s not sure he wants to know. Catherine looks over at him, catching his eye. The smile she offers is so warm, so honest, so _Catherine_ that he can’t help but smile back. When it fades, the contrast is vivid and abrupt. 

“I’m going to go soon,” she says, and every word is a punch to his stomach.

He swallows, forces the question out, “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she says, “but this isn’t fair to you.”

“Do you want to go?” he asks.

She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”

He furrows his brow, waits until she looks at him, “Of course it does.”

Her eyes find the horizon again as she processes his words. Steve can feel the weight of the conversation they’re about to have hanging over them, and he wonders if he’s ready for this, if she’s ready for this. There’s so much that hasn’t been said — that has to be said — and he’s not really sure where to start. He can practically hear Danny in head calling him a Neanderthal, telling him to just say what he’s feeling. 

Before he can over think it, Steve opens his mouth.

“I was angry with you for a long time,” he says. “Still am, actually. But you’re crazy if you think I don’t still love you.”

“That’s just it, Steve,” she says, not turning toward him. “You should be angry. And I’m worse than you think because I’m not completely sorry.”

He knows there’s more, so he doesn’t say anything. Finally, she leans back, looks over at him and away again.

“I’m sorry I lied,” she says. “You didn’t deserve that from me. There was a part of me that wanted to stay and do this with you, you know. A really big part. But Steve, I’m not sorry I went. I needed to go. I was looking for something and as much as I love you, I wasn’t going to find it here and I wasn’t going to be happy without it.”

“Why did you lie?” he asks.

She holds his eyes, “Honestly? I was ordered to, but I also didn’t want you to worry about me. And part of it was selfish. I just wanted some time to be us again before I left.”

He takes in her words, nods slowly as he digests them, “So, just this, with me. That wasn’t enough?”

“No,” she says, releasing a long breath. “It wasn’t. I’m not saying that to be hurtful. But would it be enough for you? If you just had me? If you didn’t have Five-0? If you weren’t doing something you believed in everyday?”

“You could’ve had Five-0, too,” he says, knowing his avoidance answers her questions.

“I didn’t want Five-0!” Catherine flinches at the loudness of her voice, quiets again. “Five-0 wasn’t mine. The truth is, I’d been feeling a little lost since I left the Navy. I needed to find my place in the world again. I needed to do something that mattered, something that was mine. I needed more.”

Steve stands, needing to be in motion. He paces in front of the chairs, “Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” her smile is hesitant. “I did. For a while.”

“Did you even miss me?”

Her smile fades into an expression of disbelief and she stands. She walks over to him, reaches out to brush his wrist with her fingers, “Of course I did.”

He hates how much he gets it, how much he understands her. He got lucky, in a way. Five-0 fell into his lap, made the transition from the Navy easier. And as much as Steve wanted her to love Five-0, too, he knows it’s not that simple. He can’t blame her for wanting to make an impact, to do more with her life than just settle in with him. That’s who she is. And, if he’s being honest, that’s why he loves her.

But there’s something else he needs to know.

“What about now?”

“What?” she asks.

“What do you want now?” he clarifies. “What do you want, Catherine?”

She looks taken aback by the question, like she wasn’t expecting it. Steve gives her a moment.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I was happy? After we rescued Doris?”

“Sure,” Steve says. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Catherine closes her eyes for a long time, and Steve knows she’s tiring. He gently grabs her arm, guiding her back toward the chair. She sits, keeping her eyes closed, and he realizes she’s waiting for the dizziness to pass. He’s just about to ask if she needs to lay down when she speaks again.

“I was happy,” she says, finally opening her eyes. “I missed you, so much, but I was happy. I felt like I was doing what I was supposed to do. I had faith then, in what I was doing.”

“You don’t now?”

“No,” she says quietly. “I know it still matters. But I’m realizing there are other things that matter, Steve. Just as much, maybe more.”

“What are you saying to me?”

“I’m saying that when I thought I was going to die, it wasn’t my job that was running through my head. I wasn’t scared I was never going to work again. I was scared I would never see you again,” she takes a breath. “I’m saying that I love you, and I trust you. And it took me entirely too long to understand how much I was taking those two things for granted. I’m saying that when I left, I needed to go. But what I need now is a home.”

Steve touches her hand, “I—”

“But I won’t stay,” she interrupts, and his heart twists. “I won’t put that on you. I don’t want to be here because you’re worried about me or you pity me. I want you to be happy.”

Steve walks away from her chair then, turns around to face the ocean. It’s a perfect day, sunshine and a cloudless sky. He can see a few boats on the waves and someone stepping into the water for a swim a few houses down. It’s a perfect day, but he doesn’t feel it. There’s a tightness in his chest that’s been there ever since he came home that day and found Catherine on his porch steps, bags packed. He’s tried to ease it, with work and friends and Lynn. But nothing quite held all his jagged pieces together, not the way she did. 

_Does._

Before now, he didn’t know if it would be possible to forgive her. But he finds, standing here, that he does. Maybe it was her honesty. She only apologized for what she was truly sorry for, so he knows that she meant it. Or maybe it’s the fact that he understands every decision she made. It wrecked him: Her leaving, the lies. But he understands, just like he understands what she’s saying now.

When he turns back around, she’s standing, watching him, “Before I go, I just wanted to say thank you. You saved my life. Again.”

Steve walks back over to her and reaches down to grab her hand. She watches as he threads their fingers together and then lifts her eyes to look at him again, confused.

“Stay,” he says.

“What?”

“I want you to stay,” he says again. “Here, with me. If you want to be here, I want you to be here. I don’t care how long it took you to get here, you’re here now. Stay. I want you to stay.”

“Steve...”

“And it’s not because you’re hurt,” he said. “It’s not pity. It’s not because I feel like I have to. It’s because I’m still in love with you. Everything that happened, it’s in the past now. Start over with me.”

She doesn’t speak right away, but she does step closer to him, so close he can see the different shades of brown in her eyes. She reaches up with her free hand, brushes his cheek with her fingers, and he leans into her touch. The silence stretches on until she moves even closer and his arms automatically wrap around her, pulling her into his chest.

“Okay,” she whispers into his shirt, voice muffled.

He steps back, holding her at arm’s length, “You’ll stay?”

“Yes,” she says, then smiles. “I’ll stay.”

Steve takes the next movement slow, tucking her hair behind her ear, sliding his thumb across her cheek. 

“Well, sailor, are you going to kiss me or what?”

He laughs then, his first real laugh in a while. He leans down, stopping just before their lips touch. It’s a charged hesitation, and Steve lets it linger until she’s the one to step forward. The kiss is soft, gentle, barely there. But it makes Steve feel whole, likes it’s filling up space in all the empty parts of him.

\---

They slowly settle into a routine.

Catherine starts leaving her things scattered around the apartment. Steve stops wondering if she’s going to leave. She still gets nightmares, but he’s there every night now, to remind her that she’s safe. And she’s there when he’s ripped from sleep, too. Then, he tells her all the things she missed, everything that happened to him. Her hands comfort him, tracing lines on his back and arms and face. Catherine doesn’t apologize for not being there. She knows that won’t fix it. She just reminds him that she’s here now, and stays awake until he falls back to sleep.

Catherine begins working in the FBI’s field office in Hawaii. She travels, sometimes for weeks at a time. But she always comes back to him, to them, to the home they are starting to call their own. There’s coffee during the busy mornings, drinks by the water on lazy nights.

It takes time for Danny to come around. Catherine eventually calls him, asks him to meet. She tells Steve about it later: About how they spent an hour talking by the beach, about his partner’s concerns. Catherine doesn’t keep secrets, not anymore. That’s what Steve tells Danny when they talk about it. Danny is nothing if not stubborn, but he eventually starts calling her family again. Grace calls her Aunt Catherine.

Her bruises disappear, her wounds heal, but the scars on her back are a constant reminder of how close he came to losing her for good. Sometimes, his nightmares are about that night, about getting there too late, When that happens, she presses his hand to her beating heart, a quiet reminder that she survived, that she came back.

One evening, a year or so later, they take dinner to the beach just before sunset. Catherine brings a basket of food. Steve carries a bottle of wine. They spread the blanket out on the sand and Catherine curls up at his side, tangling her ankle with his own. 

She tilts her head up at him, smiles, “I love you, you know that?”

Steve presses his lips to her forehead, “I do.”

He reaches into his pocket, hands closing around a familiar box.

She says yes before he can even ask the question.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I just finished watching Hawaii Five-0 from beginning to the current episode. And, being the most predictable person alive, I fell in love with the apparently unpopular/doomed ship and the unpopular female character. It's just who I am as a human.
> 
> Anyway, I miss Catherine and I miss Steve/Catherine. So, this was my attempt to put all of their broken pieces back together.


End file.
